#unexpected alan wake

[saddestspaghetti]

"I'm spiraling" I tell you.

I feel completely empty. The anxiety is overwhelming so I try to fill every waking moment with... something. But there is a wall between me and everything productive and I fall back to self destructive habits instead. There's a familiar taste in my mouth.

I'm desperate to end this cycle and even though I can see the exit, with its bright neon sign, I can't seem to find my way out. 

"It's like I'm caught in this terrible loop that's too painful to keep going but without the pain I don't feel anything. I don't know what to do without my racing heart and the lump in my throat." 

Tears are running down my cheeks but those sobs that once wracked my body never come.

"It's not a loop, it's a spiral."

You mean it mostly as a joke. You're trying to make me smile, maybe even laugh. And it works. But the context and depth of your words are not lost on me and the deafening silence of the void inside me begins to quiet just a bit.

[hobnob-moth]

Wait… aren’t directors usually supposed to be the silent voice in stories? -Jesse

Oh, tons of directors are in their own work. Hitchcock, Harold Ramis, Mel Brooks, M Night. Shyamalan, Uhh ███ ████. -Emily

Who? -Jesse

—

Had a silly idea pop into my head when I heard the dlc for Alan Wake 2 would have Jesse in it, and the idea kept tormenting me enough to finish this drawing. I wanted to work in something with The Director vs a director, but wasn’t able to make it concise enough to fit sadly.

[diiebu]

Handsome Devil

I don't post something that spicy here,,, but if u interested you can find full version in my twt @/diehornybu 👉👈💕

[thisfuckingdork]

Started playing Alan Wake recently, pretty out of my comfort zone (city builders, management, racing, etc.) but I think I'm having a good time with it

[prototypelq]

I'm sure I'll love BG3 if/when I finally get to play it, but I am also sure I don't really want to touch that fandom with a 10 meter pole. Too big, too toxic, and they scream uncontrollably too much. It's like BG3 is their new religion and they've never played anything before.

I'm immensely glad and happy for Larian's success, they absolutely deserved and needed that win, but it's not the first nor the last good game out there, plus they have a lot of work to do for it still, as the quality control is all over the place, in last acts especially or so I've heard.

[douglas-leon-michael]

So I've started Alan Wake 2 and so far all I'm going to say is AAAAHHHHHH!

[sfehvn]

new religion part 6

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 7

A/N: Thank you guys for hanging through this series with me :) There is some pregnancy talk beginning this chapter, so pls skip this if that makes you uncomfortable. Enjoy the update, cheeky pups. Some more sexy stuff this time around! Xx Rating: M (18+ minors DNI) Word count: 3,027 Characters: soft!ascended!Astarion x au!Tav

━─━────༺༻────━─━

  Your arms stretch above your head, sleepy eyes flickering open. It takes you a moment to become aware of the empty bed you lay in. The spot occupied by Astarion’s cool figure when you’d drifted into a serene sleep is now bare. There had only been a handful of times he hadn’t been there to greet you upon your wake since you had agreed to stay with him, one of the many attributes you admired to no end about your lover. Georgie is tucked into your side, perturbed by the sudden disturbance of you sitting from your previous position. He mewls, shaking his soft fur before hopping off of the bed, no doubt in search of his morning feeding. Making your way to Astarion’s office, knowing that’s where you’d find him when he was not by your side, your brow creases at the sight of the undisturbed room. 

  “Lady Tav, Master Ancunin requested your presence in the day room immediately. Presentably.” As she speaks, there’s a tinge of urgency in the maid’s voice. The unexpected voice caused you to jump in surprise, a hand resting on your chest. The abundant amount of help in the manor was indeed something you were still adjusting to. The maid’s features soften as she realizes the fright she has inflicted. “So sorry, my Lady.” She adds.

  “It’s quite alright. Just Tav, by the way.” Your clarification is met with a shake of the maid’s head.

  “Master Ancunin was very clear-”

  “Right. Of course.” You smile softly, and as the thrall makes her retreat, you stop her with another inquiry. “Did he say why?”

  “Your brother thought to pay a visit. He’d like to see you.” With that, the maid rounds the corner of the long corridor.

  Your eyes widen at the mention of your brother. In the home you now share with Astarion. While you did inform Alan that you’d be staying with your companion, you couldn’t recall telling him where the manor was. It wasn’t exactly inconspicuous, and Astarion could be considered rather influential among the elite of Baldur’s Gate; you had never addressed said companion by name in any of your letters. You push the gnawing questions aside for the time being to make yourself look decent.

  Your nerves felt as if they were on fire. While you loved your brother dearly, he could be a stickler about the sanctity of marriage, and reading his distaste of you staying with a man unwed was one thing, now you’d have to face him and hear those complaints voiced. It was not something you were particularly looking forward to. That aside, you couldn’t imagine Astarion getting on too well with Alan either, mentally noting how opposing the two personalities were. To your surprise, you were greeted with the sound of laughter as you entered the dayroom. Alan is seated across from Astarion, cradling a goblet of red wine as he seems enthralled by whatever fantastical story the other man is going on about. 

  “Ah, darling, there you are. I thought I’d have to send the cavalry to fetch you.” Astarion jokes, gesturing for you to sit down in the seat beside him. You oblige, but not before giving your brother a quick embrace. 

  “You look great, Tav.” Alan points out. “How have you been faring, sister?” His tone cushions the concern dredged in his voice with care.

  “As well as I can. Given the circumstances, of course. I’m actually,” You pause, trying to find a way to put your emotions into words eloquently. You settle on the most obvious. “I’m happy.” The simplicity of your statement is paired with a shrug, your lips upturning into a faint smile. The air lightens even more as your sincere answer puts your brother noticeably at ease.

  Alan lets out a chuckle, shaking his head. “You know, I was a bit skeptical about this whole arrangement. Lillian had said some choice words about Astarion; the dramatics with that one are not going anywhere anytime soon. I just had to ensure my little sister was in good hands. It looks as if you are.”

  A seriousness settles onto Astarion’s perfect features as he silently curses the young girl. He bites back any unsavory remarks. “I will admit before I met Tav, I did not have the best track record regarding my, er,  personal conquests. Unfortunately, it would appear your sister must have gotten word about that. I am not proud of my past in that sense.” He didn’t have any need to explain himself; he owed nothing to the man seated before him. Contrarily, he found himself explaining Alan’s worries away anyhow. “Tav has given me a new outlook on life. I will be forever grateful to her.”

  Your cheeks burn with a red tinge at his words, and you look over to your brother in a silent vie for approval. “And that is a commendable thing to admit, my friend.” Alan holds his goblet up in a sort of ‘cheers’ before taking a sip from the glass. “I do wish you’d made an honest woman out of my sister before inviting her to live in your home. Call me old-fashioned.” He laughs.

  “Alan-” You begin to scold, but he holds up a hand.

  “But you clearly love my sister and only have good intentions. I suppose that means more than anything else you could offer. And it’s about time she does something for herself.” 

  Astarion expertly refrains from letting out a chuckle, recalling the night you had spent together that was anything but good-intentioned. “That is the truth.” He states matter-of-factly instead. The remainder of Alan’s visit was short-lived, and once he was gone, Astarion turned his undivided attention to you. His hands find your hips as he guides you back into the day room, mischievously smirking all the while. “I have been dying to get you alone since last night, pet.” 

  A burning desire alit in your chest, you eagerly undo his trousers as he presses you into the chair behind you. His large, hard cock is freed from its confinement, springing to attention before your hungry eyes. You look at him innocently from under a bed of lashes, tongue darting out to wet your lips before taking as much as you can handle into your mouth, tongue swirling over the tip before your head bobs over his length. With his groan of approval and hands tangling into your hair, your heart swells pridefully. How this man fell apart for you just as equally as you did for him made you brim with excitement, evident in the pool of wetness that clung uncomfortably in your underwear. You shift in an effort to provide relief to your aching center. So ready and willing to be filled with his cock, the thought made you moan around his length. Your hand stroked the bit of him you couldn’t fit into your mouth, looking up to see the pleasure on Astarion’s face as his cock twitched in the warmth of your mouth.

  He’s close to the edge. You’ve learned every little cue and reaction his body had in response to you. He pulls you up from your seated position, and you whine as his length leaves your lips, heart pounding as he flips you, bending you over the chair. Your dress was pushed up, exposing your wet underwear to him. He moves your undergarments expertly to the side, and you yelp in pleasure as he thrusts his cock into your drenched pussy. You grasp at the handles of the chair to maintain your balance, arching your hips further into his as he rhythmically pumps in and out. “I’ve been dying to taste you again, my naughty little pet.” He grunts. He pulls you up from the chair, not daring to break the contact of him buried deeply into your cunt. Your back is flush against his chest as he keeps pace.

  “Please, love. I want to be naughty for you.” You mewl breathlessly. You’re met with a more arduous thrust in response, his hand discarding the bandage on your neck that had been hidden under your flowing locks. Once fangs break skin, your pleasant and now familiar taste fills his mouth. He relishes the way it coats his tongue, the way it pools into his mouth. He knew this couldn’t be a continuous event, but he would take advantage of your new-found turn-on while he had the appropriate healing potions in his possession. He silently reminds himself he could always purchase more, an action he’d send a thrall out for once you two had your fun.

  It doesn’t take long for him to fill you with his seed, unable to take the intense satisfaction a moment longer. He continues to feed, his hand reaching around to play willfully with your clit. Your stature tenses, and you feel your knees go limp as your orgasm overtakes you. Astarion removes his teeth from you, lapping up the blood that seeped out upon his exit. Unlike the night before, he was eager to get every drop he could, unwilling to let the precious ambrosia go to waste. He removes his now-soft cock from your mound as he continues to support your limp form. He cradles you into his arms, sitting in the chair you had so unceremoniously christened with you in his lap. His fingertips brush the stray hairs away from your face, soaking in the satisfied smile on your lips.

  A thrall entered the room without urging, they were prepared to tend to your reopened wound. A bandage was reapplied in place of the one Astarion had tossed aside; a deep red liquid that tasted of sulfur was provided, and you took it down begrudgingly. The thrall sees themself out hastily. “I like it when you’re rough with me.” You admit shyly, drawing circles over his knuckles with your fingertips.

  “Do you, pet?” Astarion’s head cocks to the side, eyeing you curiously.

  “I’ve spent so much of my life being treated like I’m made of glass. It’s refreshing.” You sigh happily. “I like it when you’re careful too.” You correct quickly before continuing. “But it is nice every once in a while.” 

  “I knew you were dirtier than you let on.” He teasingly taps the tip of your nose, and you giggle, pushing his hand away playfully. A comfortable silence settles over you, and you decide to inquire about something heavy on your mind.

  “Do you think you’ll get tired of me, love?” You ask from your position nestled into his chest.

  “Never. I could spend eternity in your presence and still yearn for longer with you by my side.”

-

  You walk the roads of the lower city, humming quietly to yourself. Your hair was tied back with a neat yellow bow, and your flowing dress matched the color to a tee. It felt odd going out alone after spending most of your time with Astarion. He had been reluctant to let you, but he warily agreed after you insisted the alone time would serve you well. You wouldn’t be entirely alone, he wasn’t a dimwit. Instead, he instructed some of his less daylight-challenged help to keep a close eye on you. With the promise of a fate worse than death if you came home with even a hair out of place, he was confident they’d ensure a safe journey. 

  The smell of fresh air was replaced with the overbearing scent of alcohol and must as you pass The Blushing Mermaid. You ignore the rowdy tenants shouting your way as you stroll by. It had always baffled you how the place was always in full swing, even mid-morning. It hadn’t usually bothered you, but the smell was particularly potent and made your stomach lurch. Your stride quickens until you’re far enough away to inhale clean air. Your nose scrunches in distaste, mentally clocking just how unhygienic the place had to have been. Without another hitch, you’re entering The Facemaker’s Boutique, greeted by the smiling face of the man behind the counter. “Lady Ancunin! A pleasure to see you’re face again.” 

  “Oh, well, thank you, Darren.” You’re caught off guard by the usage of your lover’s surname in relation to yourself. “Astarion and I aren’t married, though. No need for all of the formalities.” You giggle.

  The older man feigns surprise, his jaw slackening at the revelation. “Not married? And here I was under the impression he’d snatch you up as soon as physically possible. That man is smitten with you.” His words convey a teasing melody as if he were relaying groundbreaking information. “Follow me, Not Lady Ancunin.” His laugh is infectious, and you can’t help but smile as you follow him into the back once he’s unlocked the doors behind him. “Feel free to help yourself to the wine, dear. It’s a delectable dessert wine I’ve just imported. It would be a crime not to share.”

  “Oh, I couldn’t. It looks rather expensive. Thank you for your kindness, though. You’re a joy.” 

  “Don’t be silly. Sir Ancunin’s business alone keeps our doors open and more than enough food on the table to feed our families. The least I can do is share some of my alcohol.” Darren insists as he enters the next room to collect Astarion's purchased clothing. “I’ll be just a moment. Please, try the wine.” 

  You finally give in, sitting on the chair closest to the table the wine was housed on. You take one of the empty glasses, carefully pouring the faintest amount into it. You bring the glass to your lips, and the sweet nectar rolls over your tongue. You hum in approval, taking another sip. This time, you feel your stomach tighten in rejection. Hastily setting the goblet down, you find the nearest bin and release the contents of your abdomen into it. Darren is before you immediately, holding the small pile of carefully crafted clothing in his arms. “Oh my, are you unwell? Was it the wine?” There’s an undertone of nervousness in his voice. He sets the clothes on a trunk, filling another glass with water from the pitcher beside the wine bottle. You quietly thank the man, sipping the water cautiously, afraid to further upset your gut.

  The walk back to the manor is an onerous one. Your limbs feel heavy under the weight of the clothing in your arms; each step is a hurdle in its own right. Astarion is awaiting your arrival, seated in the foyer when you enter. His smile falters when he sees your disheveled state, quickly setting down the book he had been reading. He hurried to your side, taking the pile from your arms. Anger, concern, and confusion are valid in describing how he felt. Anger at the two he had instructed to keep a watchful eye on you, clearly disobeying their one function. Concern and confusion in regards to your current state. “What is it, darling?” The clothes were a forgotten heap on the floor as he scanned your face and body for any signs of harm.

    “I’m okay, love. I think I’ve just caught a bug.” Your small smile falters as the familiar twist in your stomach makes the bile in your throat rise. “I’m just going to rest.” You choke back a heave as you swiftly move past him. He had been at your side for every unsavory moment thus far, but the thought of retching in front of him makes you feel sicker than you already do. 

  You spend your evening in bed, body huddled around a bucket that had the unfortunate job of collecting the contents of your gut. After hours of vomiting, all that is produced from you are painful dry heaves. Still, you’re unmoving. Astarion lays behind you quietly, stroking your arm in an attempt to soothe you. Despite you insisting he leaves you be. Forceful when telling him you didn’t want him to see you in such bad shape, he didn’t go. A sight that once would have made him look on in repulsion; the only thing he felt was helplessness. He did not need to worry about these mortal diseases and deaths before. His mind was plagued by what may be ailing you. Would you share your parent’s fate? No, he wouldn’t allow such a thing to befall you.

  “Are you able to eat something, pet?” His words are muffled against the bare skin of your shoulder. You shake your head feebly, unspeaking. “You must drink water at the very least.” His words are firm only in love. He assists you with sitting up, handing you the glass that rests on the nightstand beside the bed. You take a small sip to appease him, offering it back to him. “A little more.” You oblige reluctantly, only to feel the liquid rise up your throat. Astarion holds the bucket under your chin, watching with sad eyes while the water is discarded into it.

  “I just can’t right now.” You murmur, laying on your side once more. The chambermaid who sat in the corner of the room came to collect the bucket, replacing it with an unused one in the process. You felt like death; there was no other way to put it. Your head spun, your stomach unsettled beyond repair, but Astarion noted something seemed different. It wasn’t any of your features or simply from seeing you so debilitated. You were just different. His mind wanders as he rubs circles over your back.

  It couldn’t be.

  He excuses himself once the chambermaid returns, assuring that he’ll be back as soon as possible. 

-

  Among the sea of books in the manor’s extensive library, Astarion holds a book firmly in his grasp, eyes flitting over the text fervently. Nausea settled in the pit of his stomach, a feeling he hadn’t recalled the sensation of in centuries, let alone felt. Dhampir’s were not unheard of in his world, though extremely rare. Even more rare for a vampire of his age to produce any sort of offspring. His mind went into overdrive as one sentence stuck out among the others.

Few mortal mothers survive pregnancy; even fewer survive childbirth.

[oldest-house]

the amount of Control references i've found in Alan Wake 2 have been so "in your face", it's almost a damn near certainty we're bound to get a control 2 sometime in the next few years. it's fueling my hopes!

Remedy has actually confirmed that not only is CONTROL 2 a possibility, it's already in development. There has been no talks of release date, so it's safe to say the game is still in early stages of development, but they have released a piece of concept art and the game director Mikael Kasurinen has stated the following:

"With Control 2, we’ll take another leap into the unknown. It’ll be an unexpected journey. It’ll take a while, but to put it mildly, this is the most exciting project I’ve ever worked on. It’s still early days, but it will be worth the wait."

[countlessvisions]

Initiation 4: We Sing

Alan Wake II

This chapter was so fun and unexpected. I got distracted by the music and lights so that's why it looks like I suck 😂

[the-hidden-writer]

A Piece of True Fiction: Chapter 10

An Alan Wake 2 fic. Spoilers for Alan Wake 2!

Summary: Aleksi Kesä manages to slip out of the spiral and film he was trapped in.

Saga Anderson, caught in the middle of Wake's horror story, finds a man that looks identical to her partner in the middle of the woods. He's lost, confused, and only seems to speak Finnish. Saga has to try and uncover the truth as well as trying to save her family. Where did he come from? How did he get here?

And where's her Casey?

Chapter Summary: Saga gains information from an unexpected source. Words: 2,449 AO3 Link: [Here!] [First part] [Previous part] [Next part]

A Piece of True Fiction

Chapter 10: Balance

Saga throws herself out of her Mind Place and sits up, turning her head and looking around frantically. Her sudden movement startles Jaakko, who visibly jumps, his arm hitting the edge of the well and knocking Kesä’s shoe back into the shaft.

“Did you say something?” Saga asks.

Jaakko looks at her, confused. “No?”

“Are you sure? I heard someone say something.”

Jaakko shrugs. “I didn’t hear anything. Might have been a dream, you looked like you were sleeping.”

Maybe she’d imagined it. Hesitantly, Saga leans back onto the well again and closes her eyes to re-enter the Mind Place.

“Oh hey, it’s back.”

Saga’s heart starts to race. That wasn’t her imagination. That’s a voice speaking. Muffled, but definitely present. The sound doesn’t quite reach her ears, similar to when she’s trying to find the voices and perspective of others when profiling them. Except right now she isn’t trying to profile anyone.

Another knock. This time, Saga is certain it’s coming from the door within her Mind Place.

“Hello? Who’s there?”

That’s someone talking inside her mind. An unfamiliar voice talking inside her mind. Extremely wary, Saga approaches the closed door that’s only ever been there for decoration to complete her version of a familiar space. She tries to open it. It’s locked.

So she crouches by its side and knocks back.

“Who are you? How are you talking to me?” She asserts mentally.

“You’re the one that showed up out of nowhere, madam Locked-Door. Also, I asked first.”

Saga has never experienced anything like this before in her Mind Place. She’s certain she’s never heard this voice before, lending more reasoning that it isn’t just a figment of her imagination. It carries a heavy nonchalance that unnerves her. Her currently highly-stressed subconscious wouldn’t be able to create such a relaxed tone.

She cautiously decides to play along.

“I’m an FBI agent. Who are you?”

She has to play it safe. She can’t risk giving out personal information and finding herself written into another story, let alone her loved ones getting dragged deeper in.

There’s no response from the other side. The pause is long enough for Saga to doubt the entire encounter, when the owner of the voice finally speaks up again, more assertive themself.

“Oh shit, FBI? I am so glad to hear that… you must be looking for your colleague.”

Saga’s body tenses. There are two possible options here. She tries the safe bet first.

“Robert Nightingale?”

“Huh?”

She doesn’t want to suggest it. She doesn’t want to suggest it in case she’s right.

“Alex Casey?”

“Yeah, him!”

Shit. She was right.

“I’m not looking for him. He’s with the FBC, he’s safe. Who are you?”

“Wait- are you saying he’s there? Oh fuck…”

The nonchalance is briefly replaced with panic. Saga is left beyond confused.

“Hey, listen to me. That guy that’s up there with you? That’s not your guy. Your guy’s here with me.”

What?

“What are you talking about? Casey’s with the Federal Bureau of Control. Where are you? Who are you?”

Another pause, long enough for Saga to start to doubt. Long enough for her to try to find a way to deny that Casey is missing, because acknowledging it would make the possible danger he could be in terrifyingly real.

“I’m Alan Wake.”

Saga doesn't miss a beat.

“You don't sound like Alan Wake.”

The stranger, apparently Wake, doesn't miss one either. A choked noise that sounds mostly like a scoff comes from the other side of the door.

“What, you’ve met me? That must be another version. The Dark Place allows for that sort of thing. Besides, does the guy-you-think-is-your-guy sound like your agent friend?”

A valid point. “No…”

“Let me guess, he goes by ‘Aleksi Kesä’.”

Saga’s breath catches in her throat. He just outright acknowledged Kesä’s existence- the first person to do so. The first person who seems to have any idea about what’s going on. Despite the different voice and subtle lilt of an accent, could this really be Alan Wake? Another version still trapped, like she's been seeing in the Overlaps?

The version that did write-in Kesä and write-out Jaakko?

She can't jump to conclusions. As far as she can tell, this is all in her head. She has to learn more while treading cautiously.

“How do you know? Are you in the Dark Place right now?”

“Yup.”

A thought occurs to her. “Are you in the well?”

“...Yes and no.”

“What do you know about Kesä?”

“Oh man, where to start? Aleksi Kesä is the devil in disguise. A doppelgänger made of pure darkness, taking the form of an innocent man- well, FBI agent. He should be confined to the Dark Place, he belongs there, but it sounds like he managed to escape and dragged the real deal down in his place. Problem is that he wants reality to accept him, and he has the power to alter things to get his way, whatever the cost. He’s extremely dangerous.”

Saga tries to process what she's being told. Kesä, the man she’d risked her life to rescue and who’d cared for her in return, with evil intentions?

Not to mention the very idea of Casey having an evil doppelgänger is absurd. Wake and Scratch is one thing. Is this Wake implying that Kesä is to Casey what Scratch is to Wake?

Or is he implying that Kesä is Scratch?

Sure, she’d been wary of Kesä, but the idea of him being ‘made of pure darkness’ is taking it to the extremes…

“So you're saying that the real Alex Casey is in the Dark Place right now?”

“That's right.”

It makes partial sense. Though some parts don't add up, such as Kesä's seemingly non-evil personality and the unknown role of the Koskelas in the story, it's the only explanation she's been given and therefore she can't help but cling to it. 

Even so, she takes everything said with a grain of salt.

“Why should I believe you?”

“Does the name ‘Anderson’ mean anything to you?”

Saga freezes. Tries to convince herself she didn’t say anything, that he can’t read her innermost thoughts, that her private life is safe-

“Clearly means something to this guy. One of the only consistent words between his berserk babbling.”

Her heart sinks.

“Let me talk to him.” she demands.

“Would if I could. He's breaking down big time. I gotta say, I’m getting worried. The more he loses his mind, it means Aleksi Kesä’s grip on reality is getting stronger.”

Saga listens in trepidation and does her best to not imagine Casey falling apart, trapped in the hellscape the other Wake had described. Alan Wake had been trapped there for thirteen whole years. She can’t bear the thought of her friend going through the same nightmare that a week ago she’d claim couldn’t exist. And now Casey’s there too, all because of… Kesä? A doppelgänger? Scratch?

“You have to stop him before it's too late!”

“How do I get Casey out of there?”

“There might be a way. Then again, it might already be too late…”

“If there’s even a chance of it working, tell me.”

“Fine. Use Aleksi. He’s the key. There’s a ritual- the cult will know. They-”

“The ritual with the heart?”

“Yeah, how did..? Uh, if you perform the ritual and throw the heart into the well, you should get your guy back. Balance is important in the Dark Place, the two sides are like a set of scales. Force one in, it’ll force one out.”

What Wake is implying sounds uncomfortably like murder, though the words make the most sense so far. He knew that Aleksi came from the well. The well had been linked to the Overlap. Maybe some remnant from that is what’s letting her talk to Wake in the Dark Place now?

He claimed that Casey’s calling for her, for Anderson. The stranger Wake couldn’t have pulled her name out of thin air. Wake (the one out of the lake) also said that Kesä and Casey might be different. Maybe he knew more than he had let on.

“If you’re going to attempt this, you have to hurry. The longer Kesä stays on the surface, the more he spreads roots of himself there. It’ll reach a point where it’ll be too strong even for the ritual.”

Saga doesn’t know what to make of it. After spending so long in the dark, trying to piece all these mismatched clues together, she suddenly feels like she’s being bombarded with information and instructions that she doesn’t know whether to trust. She doesn’t trust Wake, but once again he’s the only person who seems to have any idea about what’s happening, and the only person who has any idea of how to make things right.

Only now there’s a ticking clock for Casey’s life as well as Logan’s.

“What’s in it for you? If you’re stuck, don’t you want to escape too?”

“You said I’m up there right now, right? That means some part of me makes it out of here. I can live with that. I don’t know about this guy, though. He’s uh… not doing so good.”

The mental image of Casey suffering returns. Saga makes her decision.

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

She’d already handled one heart ritual, what’s another for a greater cause? If Kesä isn’t Casey, if he’s just another figment of the Dark Place, it wouldn’t be murder. It’s just a necessary step in getting Casey and Kesä back where they belong.

Right?

“Good, good. Just remember: the heart goes into the well and you have to say the right words- the cult knows. You’d better hurry, we’re already running out of time to save him. But you can do it.”

Saga nods. Even though Wake on the other side can’t see it, she nods. Another ritual. A gory ritual, but she has to save Casey. The first Wake didn’t know about Kesä, this one does. She follows logic in deciding who to trust.

“And you promise it’ll bring Casey back?”

“If it works, I promise they’ll both be back where they belong. Now look, as much as I’d love to stand by this door all day, I’ve got an agent to look after.”

“Take care of him.” Saga says without thinking. “Tell him I’m coming for him. I’ll save him.”

“You got it.”

“And Wake?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah?”

“If you’re still writing there, leave innocent people out of it. Their lives are not yours to use.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Saga tensely waits for a few minutes for any further comment from behind the door. When there aren’t any, she slowly slumps down against it, assuming the same position as she physically takes next to the well.

What was that? Alan managing to telepathically communicate with her from the Dark Place?

She has no idea how it could have happened. Stranger still, it sounded like he didn’t know, either.

She suddenly feels light-headed. A haze overcomes her Mind Place. Colors fade, pieces of furniture blend together, the mounted deer head looms. 

She thinks of Wake. A different version, a different voice. Trying to escape the Dark Place, but also somehow in the Huotari Well? She’d never put Wake down as a bad person. A selfish, unsympathetic person, yes, but not cruel. Just desperate. This version hadn’t sounded desperate, had even had a hint of levity to his muffled voice. He’d also sacrificed his own chance at escape to help Casey. 

She wants to profile him but she can’t quite grasp his mindset, as if the door between them created a barrier that blocked her from his thoughts, too. It’s frustrating.

She thinks of Kesä. A different version, a different voice. Escaped the Dark Place by confining Casey in his place. While she couldn’t understand what he was saying, she knew for a fact that he felt lost and afraid. Maybe the real world is too overwhelming for a being that had been created within the Dark Place? 

Saga stops that train of thought. She has to deal with facts only. It’s a delicate case and she can’t muddy the truth with her own speculation when lives are at stake.

She thinks of Casey. Her partner, her friend, trapped. Why did he have to go and joke about this being his last case? She already knows that she’s willing to risk a hell of a lot to save him. The ritual on Kesä is definitely a big risk. Would turning him into a Taken really force him back to the Dark Place? 

Briefly, she wonders if Casey would approve of this plan, and comes to the conclusion that he wouldn’t. Except Saga knows that both she and Casey are very aware that Saga is the one with more to lose. What Casey refuses to understand is that he’s a big part of that.

She’ll have to attempt the ritual. She doesn’t know how yet, but it’s the only option she has. Wake said the cult would have more information, right? Jaakko Koskela, a perfect well of information (pun, for once, unintended) is right there. 

She drags herself out of the Mind Place and back into reality. A deep sigh escapes her lips, her breath condensing in the cold of the night. This hadn’t been what she was expecting by coming here, but she’s glad she did. She feels a lot more knowledgable about the situation than she'd been before.

Slowly, she turns her head to talk to the cultist, calling out. “Jaakko?”

Only she’s faced with a pair of legs hanging over the far side of the well.

Saga jumps to her feet. “Jaakko!”

She rushes around the base and quickly grabs onto a leg with each arm. Luckily, he hasn’t fallen fully, balancing over the edge of the well by his midsection. When she starts to pull, she realizes in terror that there is a force much stronger than her, much stronger than gravity, pulling him down. The bucket he’d attached himself to is nowhere to be seen in the nothingness below.

She hears a quiet, despairing chant echoing in the shaft.

“Mercy. Mercy dear brother, don’t kill me. I’m dying. Mercy, dear brother. Mercy-”

Saga pulls. She grits her teeth and pulls and pulls and groans with exertion and pulls and pulls and tries to anchor her feet into the ground to pull even harder. She pulls despite the strain on her weakened arm. She pulls until she can’t pull any longer, her body forcing her to let go before she greatly damages herself.

“No!”

The legs join the torso and all Saga can do is watch as he descends into darkness.

Thanks for reading!

This fic is going on hiatus for a few weeks while I have exams. Hope you're enjoying it so far ^-^

[blessedpictures]

Strength Sap (4872 words) Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Alan Wake (Video Games), Alan Wake 2 (Video Games) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Mr. Scratch/Alan Wake Characters: Mr. Scratch (Alan Wake), Alan Wake Additional Tags: Consensual Somnophilia, Somnophilia, Dubious Consent, Rough Sex, Roughness, Biting, Marking, Minor Violence, Anal Sex, Men Crying Series: Part 4 of Blessed Pictures presents: Dick-Or-Treat 2024 Summary: AW2 Spoilers. Scratch steals Wake's energy, to unexpected effect.

[demifiendrsa]

Alan Wake 2 — The Dark Place Trailer | Gamescom Opening Night Live 2023

Alan Wake II has been delayed to October 27, 2023. It will launch digitally for PlayStation 5, Xbox Series X|S, and PC via Epic Games Store.

Screenshots

Latest details

Alan Wake II pushes players into a psychological horror story from the perspective of two playable characters. Saga Anderson risks her life to solve a deadly mystery of murders in the Pacific Northwest while Alan Wake attempts to rewrite his reality to escape the depths of the Dark Place, a nightmare version of New York City. Taking full advantage of the power of current consoles and PC, and driven by Remedy Entertainment’s proprietary Northlight engine, players will take on powerful supernatural enemies in desperate situations filled with intense suspense and unexpected twists. Anderson and Wake are two heroes on two desperate journeys in two separate realities, connected at heart in ways neither of them can understand.

[ryttu3k]

Game Awards results! Just going to show the ones I actually, uh, voted for, haha.

Best Performance: Neil Newbon win!! (Check out his speech here!) Best Narrative: BG3 loses to Alan Wake 2 Best Art Direction: TotK loses to Alan Wake 2 Best Score/Music: Both BG3 and TotK lose to FF16 :( Best Community Support: Baldur's Gate 3 win!! Best Action/Adventure: Tears of the Kingdom win!! Best RPG: Baldur's Gate 3 win!! Best Multiplayer: Baldur's Gate 3 win!! Players' Voice: Baldur's Gate 3 win!! (TotK also nominated!) Best Direction: Both BG3 and TotK lose to Alan Wake 2 :(

Game of the Year: BALDUR'S GATE 3

So that's one win (Best Action/Adventure) out of six nominations for Tears of the Kingdom, and six wins (Performance, Community Support, RPG, Multiplayer, Players' Voice, and The Big One!) out of nine nominations for Baldur's Gate 3! Not quite the clean sweep they made of the Golden Joysticks, but pretty damn good :D

(Also an unexpected but fun Måneskin jumpscare, haha.)

[koskela-knights]

My fic collection

Straight up taken from my page, but now as a post.

I write a whole bunch lmao so here some of them are, all in 1 place. Might update this post too. Always read the tags on ao3 for possible CW & TWs!

No matter how stupid

Ilmo deals with the aftermath of his brother’s death.

Without Wake

Alice is depressed since the supposed passing of her husband. Barry comes over, trying to help in ways he can.

Knitting is good for the soul

Jaakko takes up knitting as a hobby.

Off trail

Self-indulgent Ilmo x Reader. You are taken on an adventure in the National Park.

Altered World Event

Maybe down the loop, it wasn’t Jaakko who paid the price for taunting Scratch.

Grave

Ilmo and the kids visit Jaakko’s grave. As simple and sad as that.

Jacket

Alan wants to do something right to the remaining Koskela brother.

Bleeding Hearts

Wake tries to make sense of the world, what happened and how to rewrite it to fix it. Ilmo is there to help along the way.

The Body Swap Accident

Somehow, the writer switches body with an unusual suspect which could turn this case upside down.

Koskela Home-Knit Sweaters for the Holidays

I wrote an ad for the Koskela sweaters, created by yours truly :P

Hot showers and the things that follow after

Ilmo and Alan return back home. Messy, tired but still kind of high on the adrenaline of escaping a deadly situation, they need to unwind and also take a shower. It’s NSFW!

Daddy Issues

Jaakko learns he’s become a father.

Again

A drabble where Jaakko wakes up one day, realizing he’s trapped in the spiral.

Curious Case(y)

NSFW fic revolving about Detective Casey being possessed by Scratch who is very curious about the Detective.

Will it ever be okay?

Reader insert who comforts Ilmo post Jaakko’s demise.

Bear Season

The Cult of the Tree encounters a new terrifying enemy.

She’s one of us

In this reality, Saga’s daughter drowned.

The Grandmaster Returns

Ilmari/Zane if you squint hard enough.

Again and Again

A drabble where it’s Ilmo who wakes up, now aware of the loop.

Stab me again, please

Based off a Tumblr post where you see during Deerfest Ilmo yells this specific line at Alan.

Just a normal day at the Valhalla Nursing Home

A silly fic where we follow a trio of elderly ladies at the VNH. The Koskela ads are their highlight of the day and they are also very interested in a certain brother.

Mirror Mirror

Slightly experimental fic with switching POVs about Ilmo resisting the Dark Presence.

Rose’s Secret Side Business

A fic about Rose’s side business of taking care of the Taken outside.

Blood Brothers

A vampire AU about the Huotari brothers, their early life in Watery and the undoing of their lives when Ilmari accidentally kills detective Kesä in self-defence.

Reunions

A collection of drabbles about reunions between brothers.

Different Ritual

Explicit spin-off/sequel to the Blood Brothers fic. Ilmari/Seine PWP.

Hug

Ilmo finally gets a hug after his brother’s death.

Private Invitation

Explicit Jaakko x m! Reader

Flesh of a Fallen Angel

Explicit Ilmari x transmasc! Reader (dub-con)

Ahma Beer!

Jaakko gifts Ilmo something once the beer deal is sealed.

Friends with Benefits and Beer

Explicit Jaakko x transmasc! Reader x Ilmo

Wolfish hunger

A werewolf AU with werewolf Koskela brothers & Rose Marigold.

Kaleidoscope

Angsty drabble about Ilmo trying to fix his broken heart after Jaakko's death.

Minds Collide

Explicit Zaneling (Zane x Darling) drabble about their collaboration.

Dance with me?

My first Ilmo/Rose fic about them dancing together.

Kalevala Knight

Explicit Ilmo/Alan drabble. Something about a knight and a writer.

Smalltown Boy

A coming of age, slice of life AU where Ilmo's a closeted gay kid.

Smalltown Boy at Prom

Sequel to Smalltown Boy where Ilmo has his first prom.

Unmasked

Rose finds a familiar Cultist after he gets unmasked. My first Rose/Jaakko, Rose & Jaakko focused fic.

Ghost Towns

AU where Alan is a sentient doll who goes on an unexpected journey.

Underneath the skin there's a Human

An angsty CultCase fic about different POVs on echo! Cultist Ilmo.

Cigarettes x Rain

A CultCase drabble about smoking with your enemy.

Firsts

Trans! Ilmo x Rose and their firsts. No Dark Presence AU

Ink

CultCase angst about tattoos and remembering loved ones.

He created me in his image

A transmasc! Reader x Ilmari, arranged wedding AU.

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

Ok, it is the last day of September, leaves are turning yellow slowly but surely. Imagine someone coming to Riot and then this dialogue happens.

"Wow, cant imagine, the summer is really over."

"Yeah, me too. I`ll be missing it."

"Why?"

"Well, because despite everything, it was actually... fun."

My question is, who is Riot talking to, and why would she describe this summer as 'fun'? What is her most wholesome memory from this summer? What made her smile, what would she retell to her friends?

[Disclaimer: extended Spanish dialogue would be written between <>]

''Are you ready, sweetheart?''

Christine Vega nodded slowly, her eyes still drinking the view of the sea beyond the cliff where she was standing. The cool breeze gently rustled her blonde hair, but she was so absorbed in the sights that in that moment, she didn't care.

Colonel Alan Cameron, of the Black Watch, 3rd Battalion, Royal Regiment of Scotland, retired, smiled fondly and crossed his arms, leaning against the jeep.

Each day that passed, his granddaughter looked more and more like her mother. From the looks down to the stern attitude which she adopted in life. Hard on herself. Selfless towards others. Now at 18 years old, she was all grown up.

Colonel Cameron looked back at the country house behind them, now closed and dark, devoid of life. The cattle had been sold to the neighbours, the family heirlooms that were important had been either stashed or packed in the luggage that filled the trunk and backseats of the jeep.

The only thing left was to say goodbye.

''I can't believe Summer is already over'' He commented, turning his head to watch his granddaughter again. She was still there, hands in the pockets of her jeans, staring into the ocean.

''Yeah. I'll miss it''

''Why?'' Calmly, he approached her to stand by her side, with his arms still crossed.

''Despite everything, I had fun, grandad'' Christine looked up at him with a smile, but the Colonel couldn't be fooled that easily, as weak as he was for his little girl.

Last year had been absolutely awful, for the two of them.

First, his wife had passed of a sudden, unexpected illness. Then, a mere month later, during the school year, his son in law's parents, Christine's other set of grandparents, passed away within a week of each other. Her abuelo for complications with a chronic illness, her abuela supposedly of a broken heart.

Christine's parents couldn't even come back from their job in Africa in time for the funerals, and everything fell on her shoulders. The Colonel was about to retire, and still had to sell his house, and thus the teenager stayed home, being taken care of by the neighbours, who would be now in charge of watching over the house while she moved to UK to study.

Because she had been accepted into Cambridge to study History. The Colonel was so proud of her he could burst any time.

''Which was your favourite part, sweetheart?''

Christine hesitated, leaning against her grandfather's body to rest her head against his shoulder.

''That I forgot everything and we just had fun travelling around'' She murmured, remembering the two month long road trip they had just finished, visiting as much of the country as they could. ''I won't ever forget it''

''<¡Christina!>'' An older woman's voice called her from behind them, and grandfather and granddaughter turned to face one of the neighbours, a woman that had been her abuela's best friend.

''<Adela... I'll miss you>'' Christine hugged the teary frail woman as delicately as she could, while Adela kissed her cheek repeatedly.

''<This is your home, don't ever forget about that. Ah if Luisa and Antonio could see you they would be so proud>'' The old woman sniffled. ''<You're going abroad to study! Like your dad!>''

''<I'll come back as often as I can to see all of you>'' Christine assured tenderly, unable to pry away from the woman's clutches, so her grandfather came to the rescue.

''We should get going, sweetheart''

The teary old woman still had to be convinced by the rest of her family, all of which came out to see them off and hug Christine for the last time in a long time.

When she finally could get into the jeep her own eyes were teary. Colonel Cameron looked at her with a knowing smile, and brushed her cheek with his knuckles.

''Cheer up, sweetie. It's not everyday that you get to go on a road trip with your old grandpa''

''We just arrived from one!'' Christine laughed, waving at her neighbours as the jeep made its way to the road. ''But I'm going to enjoy this one too''

''The freedom before drowning in books, innit?''

''I could always enlist like you'' She smiled widely, knowing full well that was something her grandpa would have liked, but he shook his head, laughing.

''And your parents would kill me for that''

As if they cared, Christine thought, looking out of the window, mentally saying good bye to the rolling hills and the green forests, to the cliffs and the sea.

[twilightzonecloseup]

1.03a Healer

Director: Sigmund Neufeld Jr.

Writer: Alan Brennert (credited under the name “Michael Bryant”)

Cinematographer: Bradford May

Opening narration: 

“Ah, Jackie, Jackie, you're a small-timer. A roof crawler, a poke pincher, a nickel and dime drifter with salt in your dreams and ashes in your pocket. Don't cut that wire...Jackie, don't open that window. You won't be able to jimmy yourself out as easily as you got in. That's not the big score in there. It's the Twilight Zone.”

Summary:

Jackie Thompson (Eric Bogosian) is busy at work burglarizing a museum. In an exhibit of objects on loan from El Museo Nacional de Arqueología in Mexico City,* Jackie finds a gleaming crystal. Jackie accidentally trips the alarm when opens the case for the crystal and is chased by a guard. Jackie is shot, but escapes. Hiding in an alley outside of the museum, Jackie clutches the crystal, which begins to glow. Suddenly, his wound is healed.

Later at his apartment building, Jackie’s friend and neighbor, Harry (Vincent Gardenia) has dropped dead. Jackie quickly runs to retrieve the crystal and uses it to bring Harry back to life. When Harry wakes up, he tells Jackie about his near-death experience and the two begin to hatch plans for this new-found power.

Skipping ahead, Jackie, now going by “Brother John,” and Harry have started a thriving televised faith-healing operation. Backstage, it’s clear that Harry’s mind is solely focused on growing the business, while Jackie/John is interested in helping as many people as possible. 

Here enters Duende (Joaquín Martínez), who requests that Jackie return what was stolen, explaining that it is an important object for his people** and it was only temporarily on loan to the museum. Jackie is at first amenable, but Harry shuts it down. Duende warns Jackie that this refusal was a turning point.

Back at their new mansion, Jackie and Harry get an unexpected visit from a crime boss, Joseph Ribello (Robert Costanzo). Jackie once worked under Ribello, who was a cruel employer. Now, Ribello has learned that he has lung cancer and he’s come to Jackie to ask for healing. Jackie makes Ribello grovel and asks for two million dollars payment. But, when Jackie goes to heal Ribello, the crystal doesn’t light up. Nothing happens.

Jackie and Harry leave for their TV broadcast, but Jackie is panicking that the crystal isn’t working. Harry collects someone from the line of people waiting to be healed, a deaf child. It’s now five minutes to air time, but the crystal has gone totally dark. 

Once again Duende appears backstage and explains to an angry Jackie that the healing only works permanently if the intentions of the user are unselfish—this was the turning point Duende referenced earlier. 

Jackie’s gunshot wound reappears. Jackie runs to find Harry and asks him to use the crystal on him, but Harry is too far gone. Harry plans on letting Jackie die and keeping their earnings for himself. 

Jackie collapses, but he’s been followed by the deaf child. The child heals Jackie using the crystal. And, now that he has learned his lesson, Jackie is able to grant the child hearing. Jackie returns the crystal to Duende and walks away from the theatre with a new lease on life.

Closing narration:

"Now, he is John—no longer Jackie. Perhaps not Brother John, brother to all men, but at least fit to walk among men who care. Because caring is part of the secret, the secret we all learn, that the heart cannot heal what the eye cannot see. Not even, in the Twilight Zone."

✨Support✨

*It isn’t spoken in the episode that the artifact came from a museum in Mexico City, it’s visible on a sign in the establishing shot of the exhibit. That doesn’t necessarily mean that the artifact is specifically from the area of CDMX. 

**When Duende is talking to Jackie here, he does not specify who precisely his people are. I bring this up to point out the awkward indigenous stereotypes at work in this episode. Duende is not a full-fledged character in this episode and his appearances and disappearances are presented as if they are vaguely mystical.

More about Healer:

I’m disappointed to say this so early on in my review of this series, but Healer is the first proper dud of TZ ‘85. There are worse episodes later on, but this one just doesn’t match the quality of the previous stories.

Reportedly, Alan Brennert, the writer of Healer, is in agreement with me. Brennert reworked the story for a prose short story later. I hope I can get my hands on a copy to maybe get some insight into what specific faults Brennert found in this story. Brennert places some blame on the segment’s director, Sigmund Neufeld Jr. Seeing that this is Neufeld’s only episode of the series, Brennert likely wasn’t alone in his dissatisfaction.

Healer is somehow underbaked and overdone at the same time. A cat burglar with a heart of gold, his father figure with a two-bit mindset, a particularly unkind mob boss being forced to face his own mortality are all potentially interesting archetypes to weave into a story about a stolen object with supernatural powers—but all this gels into nothing much at all. The undoubtedly talented cast is doing the best with what they are given, but there’s just not enough time given to explore anything fully. Robert Costanzo’s mob boss only has one scene! The characters never properly transcend their typage, even though, in the case of Bogosian’s Jackie, that transcendence is key for the story—as it’s told here at least.

That said, the story additionally dabbles in stereotypes of mystical indigenous people. In a different take on this story, there could be potential for some kind of conversation about cultural appropriation vs. appreciation. However, in this form, there is no attempt to address, avert, or subvert the insulting mysticizing of indigenous people and cultures.

Taken all together, the moral fable element of Healer is too shallow and polluted by stereotypes. This episode is the first indication—there’s more to come unfortunately—that TZ ‘85 doesn’t consistently reflect a progressive humane worldview for its time—something that was a fundamental aspect of TZ ‘59. (I’ll reflect more on this aspect later, as it’s a major factor in Harlan Ellison’s exit from the show.) The opening to this episode has a very direct analogue in the original series in A Nice Place to Visit (1.28). The rest of the story however, has a lot of Prime Mover (2.21) in it and touches of A Kind of a Stopwatch (5.04).